


friandises ou bêtises

by hypocorism



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Blind Date, F/F, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8441230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypocorism/pseuds/hypocorism
Summary: It’s Halloween, the perfect time for matchmaking!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just some cute Eposette fluff for Halloween night/Nanowrimo Day 1. Happy November, everybody!

“No way,” Eponine says, shaking her head and backing away from Grantaire. “No way in _hell_.”

“But you’ll look so cute!” Grantaire whines.

“Exactly,” Eponine scoffs. “It’s Halloween! It’s not the time for cute.”

Grantaire pouts at her, wriggling the fluffy, glittery _thing_ again.

“I told you she wouldn’t go for it,” Enjolras says, leaning into Grantaire conspiratorially. Eponine knows it’s calculated, she does, but she still feels herself falling for it.

“Yeah,” she says defiantly, “because I’m going to be something scary for Halloween.”

“No,” Enjolras says smugly, “because you know you aren’t badass enough to still look intimidating in such an adorable costume.”

Eponine purses her lips, and Grantaire smothers a laugh with his hand.

“Fine,” Eponine hisses, grabbing the costume, “but only because I don’t have one yet and we’re supposed to be at the party in twenty minutes.”

“Sure,” Enjolras calls after her as she goes back to her room to change.

“We believe you, sweetie!” Grantaire yells. Eponine flips them both off.

The costume isn’t _that_ bad, at least. The halo and wings are soft and glittery (probably Enjolras’ contribution) and the dress is extremely short and tight (definitely Grantaire’s idea), and Eponine has to admit that she looks pretty good.

Grantaire wolf-whistles when she comes back into the living room, and Enjolras claps excitedly.

“Shut up,” Eponine mutters, fighting down a pleased little smile. “Let’s get going. I want to get to the party before all the good alcohol is gone.”

“Heaven forfend,” Grantaire says drily. Eponine punches him in the arm on the way to the door.

No one even bats an eye at them on the short walk to Bahorel’s. It is Halloween, after all, and people dressed as angels and...whatever it is the other two are are practically commonplace. (Eponine isn’t entirely sure what her roommate and his boyfriend are supposed to be. Enjolras claimed ‘the spirit of revolution,’ and Grantaire had said, ‘Some dead French dudes. I don’t know, Enjolras wanted to wear cravats and I thought doing ghost makeup would be fun.’ So.)

There’s a steady stream of other partygoers pouring into and out of the building, and the landing in front of Bahorel’s apartment is absolutely packed. Eponine elbows her way through the open door, craning her neck to try and spot her friends in the crowd.

“Enjolras wants you to meet someone,” Grantaire says, right next to her ear so she can hear him over the music. Eponine narrows her eyes at him suspiciously.

“Oh?” she asks.

“Don’t look so nervous,” Grantaire laughs.

“It’s distrust, not nerves,” Eponine points out. “After the last disastrous time you two tried to fix me up with someone,” Eponine shudders, remembering, “I don’t trust you.”

“I promise this one isn’t already in love with someone else,” Grantaire says. He loops his elbow through Eponine’s and starts tugging her through the crowd. She lets him, but only because they’re going toward the kitchen. She really does need a drink if she’s being ambushed with a blind date.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Eponine grouses as they push their way through the plastic skeleton door curtain. Suddenly, the costume makes a horrible sort of sense. Standing in the corner, right next to Enjolras, is a girl in a matching devil outfit.

The girl seems to realize what’s happened at the same moment Eponine does, because she bursts out laughing and swats Enjolras gently on the arm. Eponine tries to ignore the fact that a. Devil girl is very cute and b. She has a really nice laugh. She is _not_ letting Grantaire do this to her.

“You two are completely ridiculous,” Eponine says, glaring at Enjolras. Really, this is all his fault. He’s supposed to be the reasonable one. She half-expects this kind of shit from Grantaire.

“Eponine,” Enjolras says, completely ignoring the rancor in her tone, “this is my sister, Cosette.”

“Hello,” Eponine mutters, adjusting her halo self-consciously. Cosette, still laughing, holds out a delicately arched hand. Her long fingernails are painted a bright, glittery red. Eponine shakes her hand, trying not to feel self-conscious about her own bitten-down nails and ragged cuticles.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Cosette says sincerely. “Enjolras has told me loads.”

_Great_ , Eponine thinks. She considers stomping on Enjolras’ foot, but he’s safely ensconced across the kitchen bar. For now.

“We’ll let you two get acquainted,” Grantaire says brightly, grabbing Enjolras and booking it. He knows what that furious gleam in Eponine’s eyes means, and she’s wearing extremely pointy stilettos tonight.

Cosette is still smiling at her, and Eponine is feeling more and more nervous. Cosette is just really _cute_ , so far out of her league that Eponine would definitely never have approached her on her own.

“So,” Cosette says, tilting her head curiously, “should I be insulted that I’ve been given the devil costume?”

Eponine lets out a surprised laugh.

“I think Grantaire meant this ironically,” she says, gesturing down her body. Cosette’s eyes follow her hand in a way that makes Eponine squirm a little, not unpleasantly. Cosette smiles again, eyes flicking back up to Eponine’s.

“Take a picture with me? We’ve got to memorialize this moment for Instagram, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Eponine agrees, wrapping an arm around Cosette’s waist as the other girl leans into her. Cosette doesn’t move away after she takes the photo, captioning it with a series of winking emojis.

“Have you got a username? I’ll tag you,” Cosette says, handing Eponine the phone. Eponine types it out, fingers shaking a little. When she tries to give it back, though, Cosette doesn’t take it. “While you’ve got it, you might as well put your number in.”

“Oh?” Eponine says, laughing in spite of her nerves. “That’s a bit forward of you.” She feels silly after she says it; Cosette can be as forward as she likes, Eponine doesn’t mind.

Cosette grins back at her, moving away but only enough to prop her elbows up on the kitchen bar and drop her chin into her hands.

“I won’t look, then. You can just pretend to type something.”

Eponine bites her lip to try and keep her smile a reasonable size and adds a new contact. _Mon ange_. She slides the phone across the counter to Cosette, who reads the contact name and grins.

“Text me so I’ve got your number, too,” Eponine says, emboldened by Cosette’s smile. Her phone buzzes.

_Hello, Eponine! Will you go on a date with me? <3 Cosette_

Eponine looks back up. Cosette, peering at her closely, looks adorably nervous.

“Definitely,” Eponine says, letting out a happy little sigh of relief.

Cosette beams, and Eponine begrudgingly admits to herself that maybe (this time at least) Enjolras and Grantaire were right. Not that she'll tell them that.

When Grantaire walks in on them kissing twenty minutes later, he backs silently out of the kitchen. The 'I told you sos' can wait until tomorrow.


End file.
